The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable. "A capital instrument for my purpose," thought Jack, shouldering it, "and worth all the trouble I have had in procuring it. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. " "I'll not go," answered the other. The period of repression was over. Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired. I’ll mention it.
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